Old Ghosts
by Captain Weirdo
Summary: Slouchy little story about an afternoon at the beach.  It's frightfully fluffy.  Hope you enjoy it.
1. Chapter 1

"Can you have Joseph bring the car around Charlotte? I'm ready to leave."

The Queen of Genovia swept the last of the papers from her desk into a thick attaché case before turning to check her hair in the mirror. It had been a busy morning and she was looking forward to getting out of her office, even if it was to attend a lunch meeting with the Minister of Labor and some officials from the Department of Trade.

She had suggested they meet at a restaurant in Pyrus, not far from the ministry offices. This would hopefully help ensure that the meeting was as short as possible. The Minister tended to like to linger over after-dinner coffee whenever he got the chance to eat at the palace. Clarisse wasn't sure what the allure was – it could have been the company or the fabulous food. It was probably the food, she decided.

Clarisse reached for her case as Charlotte stepped back into the office. When Clarisse looked up, she noticed her assistant had a rather concerned look on her face.

"Is Joseph here?"

"No ma'am. I'm afraid not. There's been an accident with the car –"

The edges of Clarisse's world went suddenly black. She'd been down this road before – she knew what was coming next. Next Charlotte would tell her that it happened quickly and he'd felt no pain…

She must have dropped the attaché case.

"Oh! Your Majesty, no – I'm sorry!" Charlotte scrambled to apologize, immediately aware of what was going through the Queen's mind. "It's just that the roofers were still working on the garages and when they were taking your limo out, one of them dropped a hammer and it went right through the front glass! Joseph said to tell you he will come for you in the Jaguar, if that is alright." Charlotte finished speaking as she knelt down to pick up the papers that had spilled from the case.

Clarisse shook her head, as if to clear it of the unwanted visions that had leapt to mind when she heard the words that Joseph had been in an auto accident. She laughed somewhat nervously and knelt beside Charlotte to help gather her papers. Charlotte caught her eye and said, "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. I know I should have phrased that better…"

"Oh, Charlotte," Clarisse patted her assistant's hand somewhat absently. "I shouldn't let myself be haunted by old ghosts." She closed her case and rose smoothly to her feet.

Charlotte smiled at her while wondering what sort of gods the Queen sacrificed to that allowed her to stand up with no accompanying knee crackling, while Charlotte had to practically pull herself off the ground using the edge of the desk. Perhaps it was all the dancing she did that helped her move so smoothly.

Clarisse swept through the doorway and towards the stairs which would take her to the ground floor and the sight of her bodyguard. She supposed if they were to take the Jaguar, it would be just the two of them. He would drive and she could sit in the front seat next to him, or so she hoped. He was notoriously stubborn about such things, sometimes.

By the time she reached the doors to the side entrance where her limo would normally be waiting for her, she was almost humming in anticipation. It was a gorgeous day. The meeting would be short and she could insist Joseph take a scenic route back to the palace. Perhaps a drive down to the beach?

Perhaps.

And perhaps pigs would fly. She remembered what her schedule looked like for the afternoon. Charlotte had the diplomatic pouch to be worked through and there were reports to read, letters to send. She was supposed to return a call to the German chancellor and another to someone in France – she couldn't remember who.

Joseph hadn't arrived yet. She waited patiently just inside the doors. Charlotte stood close by. Clarisse looked at the small clouds that quilted the sky in puffy white.

"It's really much too nice to be cooped up inside, isn't it?" Charlotte mused.

Clarisse smiled at her. "Exactly what I was thinking. Oh well, at least I can enjoy the drive back and forth from Pyrus – all 15 minutes of it."

"Well," Charlotte hesitated, before addressing the queen. "There isn't anything on your schedule this afternoon that couldn't be rearranged. Why not take the afternoon off and enjoy the beautiful weather?"

Clarisse eyed her assistant slyly. "Are you plotting, Charlotte?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Charlotte almost giggled. "It's just seems like you could use a bit of a break. This is a perfect afternoon for a drive down the coast or a picnic in the woods or something like that."

Clarisse laughed. "Oh, all right. You really don't have to twist my arm. If I can get through the lunch meeting, I will see if Joseph is willing to accompany me for an unscheduled afternoon off."

Clarisse didn't see the wide smile that graced Charlotte's face at the mention of an afternoon with Joseph. She had indeed been plotting and it seemed to have worked.


	2. Chapter 2

The sleek black Jag crunched to a stop on the gravel driveway. Joseph hopped out to round the front of the vehicle so he could hold the door for the Queen. He smiled up at Clarisse as she descended the steps towards him. Charlotte was just a few steps behind, carrying her attaché case.

Clarisse stopped a few feet away and shook her head at her Head of Security. "Front," she said.

He frowned and indicated the open rear door. "Back," he replied.

"Front." She pretended to glare at him.

"Your Majesty, the back is much safer for you. The windows are more tinted and you've got more room, as well. I must insist that you sit in the rear seat." He kept his voice even and silky and tried not to laugh at the look she was giving him.

"Front, Joseph." She crossed her arms and lowered her voice a notch, playing up its husky qualities.

"But the – "

Clarisse raised an eyebrow at him.

Joseph sighed dramatically and slowly closed the back door.

"Front," he finally agreed.

"Lovely idea! Thank you, Joseph," she purred and patted his cheek as she stepped into the vehicle. He could only grin and close the door securely after her.

He stepped in himself and reached for the key to start the vehicle, while he regarded Clarisse out of the corner of his eye. She smiled over at him.

"You seem to be in an unusually good mood, Your Majesty."

"If I am, it is because I have a free afternoon."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes. As soon as this lunch meeting is over, my time is my own. I can go where ever I want and do what ever I want. Or at least whatever you will let me get away with."

Joseph glanced at her with a cocked eyebrow, not exactly sure how to take the last part of her statement. He cleared his throat and studied the road once again. "So, what do you want to do?"

"I really have no idea. Maybe a drive along the coast?" She concentrated on the view outside the window as the scenery began to speed past them. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Hmm…" He thought for a few minutes. "I think I've got an idea. I'll make some arrangements and we can leave directly from your meeting."

"Wonderful. Make whatever arrangements necessary. I'll leave it all up to you." She settled back in her seat, leaning her head back into the cushion and closing her eyes. Joseph concentrated on his driving.

After a moment or two, Clarisse opened her eyes just a slit. She surreptitiously watched Joseph navigate the twisting road into the city. This was the reason she'd wanted to sit in the front. She loved to watch him at the wheel of the palace's sportier cars. He had a passion for the speed and agility he could coax from the high powered machines. She had a passion for the play of the fabric of his trousers across the tight muscles of his thigh as he shifted gears and accelerated.

She was as surprised as he at the sound of the soft sigh escaping her lips.

He misinterpreted her sentiment and smiled over at her. "Dreading your meeting?"

"What? Oh - yes, I suppose so."

"Minister Dupree?"

She nodded. "That man absolutely pains me. I can't ever get him to finish a meeting on time at the palace. I was hoping the restaurant atmosphere might speed things up a bit. Maybe he won't like this chef as much as our Chef Tomas."

"I don't think it's Tomas he likes," Joseph observed wryly and punched the car into more speed. Clarisse was saved from replying by gripping the edge of the seat, trying to remain upright as Joseph attacked a curve.

"I don't really want to be early, Joseph, dear," she said somewhat shakily. He laughed in reply, but slowed down accordingly.

As Joseph drove, his eyes were drawn to Clarisse's high heeled shoes and silken stockings. She always dressed conservatively as would befit a head of state, but he loved to look at her shoes. They always seemed to betray something of her personality; something hidden behind the public façade. The suits she wore might have been taken from Margaret Thatcher's closet but the shoes were always more like something Madonna would wear. This incongruity fascinated him and he was beginning to wonder if he was developing some kind of fetish.

He cleared his throat a trifle self-consciously and asked, "Which is your favorite dress shop in Pyrus, Clarisse?"

"Madeline's. Why?"

"You can't have an afternoon off in those clothes," he said.

"Oh!" She looked down at her skirt and adjusted her suit jacket. "Well, I guess we can go back to the palace and I could change…"

"No, I just needed the name of your favorite shop." Joseph flipped open a cell phone and slowed the car even more while placing a call. "I'm not going to take you back to the palace and give you a chance to back out of taking the afternoon off." After getting the number and being connected to the shop, Joseph identified himself to the proprietor.

"Madame, Her Majesty requires a complete outfit for an afternoon drive up the coast. Can you arrange that within the next 2 hours?" He paused while she answered. "Yes, everything, head to toe." Another pause. "Let me check." He looked at Clarisse and mouthed "What color?"

She shrugged and said "White?"

"Too formal," Joseph answered.

She rolled her eyes and indicated his clothing with a wave of her hand. "Fine. Black, then."

He grinned and shook his head.

She sighed loudly and said, "Is blue acceptable?"

"Perfect!" He notified the Madame Madeline of Clarisse's choice and hung up the phone. Within a few more minutes, the Jaguar pulled to a smooth stop in front of their destination.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the great reviews! Y'all know I am just a comment-whore. And to Liz: Geeze! Ya kill a guy once and people hold it over your head for the rest of your life! Ha ha ha! _

The Queen was shown immediately to a private dinning room in the back. Two of Joseph's men were there ahead of them and waited just inside the doors. The owner made sure the Queen was seated and took her dinner order just as the Labor Minister and two Department of Trade officials arrived. Joseph handed her the attaché case and removed the agendas prepared by Charlotte. The Minister's secretary took a seat in a corner of the room and took notes of the proceedings.

The meeting flowed smoothly through the courses of the meal. Clarisse managed to keep the Minister on task, and by the time dessert arrived, business was concluded. She stayed just long enough for politeness sake, then excused herself, pleading other pressing responsibilities.

She knew Joseph had been absent for about half of the meeting. She wondered what he'd been up to. He met her just outside the dining room.

"Ready, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, but what, exactly, are we doing?"

"We're going for a drive. But first to Madeline's."

Madame Madeline was ready and waiting for them. She dressed Clarisse in a sky blue cotton dress. The neckline was just low enough to be interesting and the skirt had a bit of a flounce along the bottom, which drew attention to the legs emerging from it. There was a matching sweater, which she draped around the Queen's shoulders. The outfit was finished with a pair of comfortable, low-heeled sandals and a large-brimmed, white straw hat.

Joseph tried to act disinterested as she twirled in front of the full length mirrors. It was a very difficult task.

Clarisse thanked Madame. Madeline told her Joseph had arranged for her other clothing to be sent back to the palace, along with the bill.

As they exited the building this time, Joseph helped her into the front of the car without being asked. Joseph smiled as he handed his charge into the vehicle, and closed the door on his view of her well-toned legs. The flash of skin he was treated to as she turned in the seat could have been completely unintentional. But he hoped not.

She didn't speak as he situated himself behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb. She regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments while he piloted the vehicle into the light mid-day traffic; wondering whether or not he'd noticed her legs as he helped her into the car. Damn sunglasses - she could never tell for sure!

He glanced over at her. "Curious about where we're going?" he asked.

"Yes. But I trust you," she replied.

He couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. They continued the drive in companionable silence. After a while he felt her hand snake its way between his body and his arm to rest on the inside of his elbow. She wrapped her fingers around his arm, stroking the fabric of his sleeve, yet leaving him freedom of movement for driving.

The coastal highway wound its way through the country side. They passed through several villages and towns without even slowing down. When they drove past the turn that would take them to the large, sandy beach that was considered to be Genovia's coastal jewel – at least according to the travel brochures – she raised an eyebrow at him, but still made no comment. He grinned and she settled down further into the soft leather seat with a contented sigh. He was certain she knew now where he was taking her.

A few miles further on, he turned off the main highway and onto a smaller road leading to a much less popular, and therefore less populous, beach. It had a different sort of beauty – rough and rocky. The rocks and boulders that covered this beach were shades of black and grey, which always provided an interesting contrast to the deep turquoise colored sea.

Clarisse had dragged her security team to this particular beach several times when she was a young mother. Whenever she had a bit of free time during the summer, she would pack up her children and bring them here. They sometimes complained bitterly about not being allowed to run free down the soft, sandy expanse of the large public beach, but they eventually learned to appreciate the beauty, and especially the privacy, that their mother found here.

The family holidays on the French Riviera with both of their parents also helped allay some of the young princes' disappointment. The last time she'd come here was shortly after Joseph was hired. Her sons were busy teenagers by then and her husband was just beginning his battle with illness. She spent an afternoon here with a good book, a full picnic basket, her bodyguard Richard and his new protégé, Joseph.

As Joseph pulled the car off the road and parked it, he finally spoke. "Your seaside promenade awaits you, Your Majesty."

"Lovely as ever, Joseph. I knew I could trust you to come up with just what I need." She patted his arm one last time before withdrawing her hand. He exited the car and went around to open the door for her.

The sea breeze was just strong enough to stir her hair. She let the wind ruffle it for a few moments, then put on the hat that Madame Madeline had provided. Joseph offered his arm, which she took with both hands and they set off towards the water.

Joseph felt his lungs expand to take in more of the sharp, fresh air. It was a magnificent afternoon and there was no where else he'd rather be. He could feel how at ease Clarisse was. During the drive down she seemed to let her cares slide off her shoulders with each passing mile.

They picked their way carefully along the edge of the water. Here and there they pointed out interesting sights to each other. She talked about memories of her previous visits to this place. They laughed together, happily relaxed in their friendship.

Clarisse pointed out an oddly shaped bit of drift wood that had washed up on the shore. They examined it together, deciding it looked a bit like the Loch Ness monster.

"I always think I should collect the wood and take it back home with me," Clarisse said.

"And turn it into a vase or a clock or something," Joseph agreed.

"Exactly! But who wants an ugly clock made from driftwood?" They laughed.

"I never know what to do with the shells, either," she confessed a little further down the beach. "The boys used to bring me buckets full of them!"

"You can only have so many shell encrusted picture frames before it gets really redundant!" Joseph said.

She smiled at that. "Pierre and Phillipe would spend hours out here picking up bits and pieces of 'treasure'. They always wanted to bring it all home – shells, rocks, wood. We compromised and I let them bring it home. Then we would dump their buckets into boxes and bury the boxes in one of the flower beds. They loved having their very own buried treasure and it kept the rest of us from having to deal with assorted beach refuse for weeks after the trip."

Joseph grinned at her. "Ah, the Wisdom of Solomon."

"Hardly! More like avoiding the Wrath of the Housekeeper!"

They walked further down the beach. In the distance Joseph could see someone sitting among the large rocks. As they got closer he realized that it was an artist, working on a painting. The sun was just beginning to think about going down and evidently the man wanted to capture that fleeting bit of sky where the dark and the light mingle together.

The man saw them coming and nodded in their direction. Joseph returned the greeting. Clarisse leaned closer to his ear and said quietly, "Ask him if it is ok if we watch him paint for a while." Joseph did as she asked and the painter acquiesced. They sat a few feet away, enjoying a view of both the sun set and the painter's work. The man worked in swift sure strokes, his colors mimicking the show of nature around them. He never looked back, not realizing that he had a royal audience.

After a while, his brush stopped its quick flicks across the canvas and the painter seemed satisfied with his scene. He simply sat and watched the colors change as the sun deepened into the sky. After a while, Clarisse touched Joseph's arm and stood up, brushing the sand from her dress. Joseph followed her lead. She walked towards the edge of the beach, just out of the reach of the small waves rolling in towards them. Joseph lingered momentarily with the artist, then joined her.

She smiled up at him from under the brim of her hat. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"I love sunset on the beach," she said. "It's much more serene than sunrise."

"When were you ever awake early enough to experience sunrise on the beach?" he teased.

"Well that's the point of time off, isn't it?" She leaned against him slightly, her hands still clasped behind her back. He tightened his grip on her shoulders. After a few moments she dipped her head slightly and seemed to stifle a laugh. She could feel Joseph's questioning look.

"Rupert never liked this beach very much. He didn't like the rocks. He used to claim there were no good spots for half naked women to sunbathe and it ruined the view," she laughed at the memory. Joseph chuckled as well.

"I remember a few times on your vacations when some of those under-clad beauties thought he needed a closer look." Joseph said.

Clarisse laughed out loud. "Yes, there were a few times we all got quite a view. Rupert was so embarrassed." She paused for a moment then said, "We were never accosted by half-naked men, however. I always felt somewhat slighted by that."

It was Joseph's turn to laugh out loud. "That is because your bodyguard was a very jealous man who did a much better job of keeping undesirables away than the King's bodyguard did."

She looked up at him rather sharply. "Really?"

"Oh yes. There were any number of men who wanted nothing more than to impress the beautiful Queen of Genovia."

"And you kept them away? That is so unfair, Joseph. I could've found the perfect paramour!" She pretended to be upset.

Joseph put a hand on his chest in mock angst. "I'm deeply sorry, madam, but none of them were worthy of your attention."

"You took it upon yourself to prevent me from having torrid summer liaisons with handsome young men? I am terribly disappointed in you, Joseph." She tried to sound stern.

He removed his arm from her shoulders and stood at attention, hands clasped in front of him. "Just doing my duty ma'am. So what shall it be for me? Public flogging? Banishment from the kingdom? Hanging?"

She moved her gaze back out towards the horizon and when she spoke her voice had a throaty timbre. "Oh, I'll think of some way for you to make it up to me." After a moment she caught his gaze again. "I'm hungry. When do we eat?"

He offered her his arm and indicated the path back to the car. "I thought you'd never ask. Shall we go?"


	4. Chapter 4

Clarisse and Joseph strolled slowly back to the car, enjoying the last of the sunset. They passed the artist who was once again bent over his canvass, working quickly in the fading light.

Joseph turned the car towards the village. They drove through the town and stopped at a restaurant a mile or so further down the road. It was small and blended well into the surrounding scenery. The subtleness of the building and the grounds bespoke quality and a self-assurance that the food was sufficient to provide all the advertising they might need. A simple sign above the door announced that this was Antonio's place.

As Joseph helped her from the car, Clarisse looked around at the empty parking lot. "Is the restaurant even open Joseph? There's no one here."

"I called ahead," he said somewhat cryptically. When she raised a questioning eyebrow, he continued. "I rented the entire place for the evening. I thought you might enjoy dinner more without a lot of fuss. Just wait until Charlotte gets the bill!" Clarisse laughed.

"Aren't you thoughtful!" she said.

The owner met them at the door, bowing low. "Your Majesty! We are honored to serve you this evening. Mr. Romero said you wished to dine in privacy and peace. I have everything ready for you. If you will follow me?"

They dined on the finest seafood, caught fresh that day. Antonio's resident musician gave them a soft piano accompaniment from across the room. The conversation was light and secondary to the enjoyment of the meal.

Clarisse smiled contentedly as she held a fork poised over her desert.

"Look, Joseph. No pears."

He laughed. "No pears? Shall we have Antonio flogged?"

"Oh, no! I rather think he deserves a medal!"

She ate slowly, savoring every bite. Joseph watched her, thrilled with the sensual joy she seemed to take from the food. After a while, he noticed Clarisse staring past him to the bar across the room.

Hanging above the bar was an old print of one of the many official portraits of King Rupert and herself. This was the one that was on the currency. It was a formal and somewhat formidable pose.

Curious, Joseph turned and followed her gaze.

He turned back towards her and she met his eyes. "I never did like that portrait," she said distastefully. "We look like statues. There is no life, no light. No lo –." She didn't finish the thought and dropped her eyes.

"No love?" he asked quietly.

"No love." She spoke softly, now playing with the remains of her dessert. "Sometimes not even very much like." She laughed mirthlessly, her mood darkening.

"For what it's worth, it always appeared to me that you were both rather fond of each other," Joseph said.

"That is because you didn't come to work at the palace until the boys were almost grown. By that time we'd both matured a bit, I guess. Matured a lot, actually. We found it was easier to be friends than enemies." She drew patterns in the sauce with her fork. "We were good friends, too, by then."

Joseph remained quiet. He was intensely curious about her marriage, but knew it was not his business to ask. After a few moments, she continued.

"Rupert was a good king. He knew his duty and he certainly fulfilled it. Reveled in it, even. He was a good father, too. But he had no interest in being a husband."

"Why?" he asked softly.

She chuckled again, a hard, cynical laugh. "Too many available women to limit himself to just one, I suppose. Oh, he wasn't crude about it. He never would have given in to the half-naked women on the beach. Thank God that wasn't his style. But there are Countesses and Duchesses all over Europe who have trouble meeting my eyes across a dinner table."

He reached across the table and took her hand. He couldn't think of anything to say. She rubbed her thumb across his fingers, grateful for his quiet presence as unbidden memories played across her mind. Neither spoke, they just listened to the music.

Finally she withdrew her hand and smoothed wrinkles out of her dress. She met his eyes and he could see the dark humor at play in her expression. Her eyes were icy and hard, yet there was a spark of laughter in them as well.

"You know there is a marriage law on the books?" she asked.

"A marriage law? What does that require?"

"It's an ancient law that I hope and pray never sees the light of day. Parliament seems to have forgotten it and it hasn't been enforced in generations." She paused to take a bite. "This is so good, Joseph. You should try it!" She smiled and held a fork full of the delicate pastry out to him. He smiled at her with his eyes and put his hand over hers, guiding the fork to his mouth.

"Umm…" His voice deepened as he expressed his approval. Slowly he released her hand. She went back to playing with the desert sauce, hoping he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks in the low light. How could just the sound of his voice cause such an immediate and visceral reaction in her body? She took a few breaths before speaking again.

"I have to admit; I live in fear that someone in Parliament will discover the law and publicize it. And knowing those old…fogies, they would try to enforce it," she said.

"Enforce what?" he asked again.

"The law says, basically, that Queens must be married. If it were enforced, I would have to go through with another arranged marriage." She laughed, but it was a cold, angry sound. She looked her bodyguard in the eye and he could see the hardness and the fight in her gaze. "I know I'm not in a strong enough political position to have the law repealed. All I can do is hope and pray that no one remembers it. But once Mia takes the throne, she will be able to abolish it."

Joseph shook his head. "You can't be serious! Parliament could force you to marry? Against your will?"

"Yes. Either that or I would have to abdicate," she sighed deeply. "And if it came to that, I guess I would give up the throne. All I know is that I will never go through an arranged marriage again. It's little more than legalized rape."

Joseph was a bit surprised by the fierceness of her reaction, but tried to be empathetic. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea how difficult things were with King Rupert." He mentally kicked himself for sounding like a shallow soap opera character.

She sat back a bit in her chair and contemplated her desert once more. "It wasn't really that bad, I suppose. He kept his indiscretions fairly…discrete." She smiled wryly. "And it kept him away from me, which was fine, too."

She paused for a bit. Joseph had reclaimed her hand across the table. She focused on the feel of his warm dry skin against hers. No sweaty palms from this man.

"There are times I suppose I feel…haunted by old hurts. I've never been unhappy with my life. Quite the contrary, really. I just sometimes mourn the things that are missing. Or the things I couldn't control."

"Understandable," he said. He took a deep breath, debating with himself about whether or not he should continue. Her light, bantering mood had disappeared, to be replaced by one he'd not encountered before. Her cold humor about her marriage was intriguing, and a little frightening. He had no idea what her reaction would be, but he decided to jump in with both feet.

"You seem to think you should always be in control of everything, Clarisse. But fate is uncontrollable. You may be Queen, but you can't really control other people. You can't control who will live and who will die. You can't even control who you will fall in love with."

At that she raised her eyes to his. He met her accusatory stare with unflappable calm. Just as she was about to speak – no doubt to voice an hollow and unbelievable denial – he raised her hand to his lips and slowly, deliberately kissed it. He never took his eyes from hers and he could see her resolve begin to falter.

He turned her hand over and kissed her palm.

"That's not fair," she whispered desperately.

"I know," he answered.

He released her hand and stood up. "Let's go for a walk."

She seemed surprised but nodded her assent and rose to join him.

He led her to a side door, pausing at the bar to thank the proprietor for his spectacular service. Then he led the Queen outside and along a wide, lengthy pier. Their steps echoed slowly on the weathered grey planks. They didn't speak. He could feel the tension in her body as they walked.

When they reached the end of the pier, Clarisse leaned out over the railing, looking out towards the unfathomable darkness. After a moment he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.

"Clarisse," he spoke softly, his voice sounding huskier than normal. "Why not give up some of that control? Would it be so terrible? Let me love you."

"Oh, Joseph," she stammered and tired to turn away. He tightened his hold on her arms just slightly, refusing to let her back away from the conversation.

"Why, Clarisse?" he repeated. "I know it's not because you don't love me. Your eyes betray your heart and you cannot deny what you feel for me. Why not give in? Isn't that what you want to do?"

She searched his eyes for a long moment. "Haven't you learned by now, Joseph? You spend your life watching me, protecting me. Haven't you realized that being Queen means never doing what you want – only doing what is best?" Her voice choked. "It was best that I marry Rupert before having a chance to live life on my own. It was best that I have children at such a young age. It was best that I not make a scene or throw a fit about my husband's cheating." Her voice rose slightly and she placed her clenched fists on his chest. "And it was certainly for the best that I never, ever have an affair – not with anyone, but most especially not with my bodyguard."

Her voice became harsh, strained. "It's best that I'm not often seen alone with you. Best that I never touch you, best that I don't ask you about your private life and that I don't appear to be too interested in you. It is for the best that I never fall in love. Not ever."

She was shaking now. The anger and frustration were too close to the surface, threatening to boil over. She pulled away from him now and turned her back to him. She took a few deep, stuttering breaths. Joseph stood beside her, close enough to brush against her, but giving her room to breathe and to gather her composure.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost a whisper. "I've always done what is best, Joseph. Always. And it remains my duty." She looked over at him. "Duty is supposed to be an honorable thing, but it can also be a prison." The harshness crept back into her voice when she continued. "It would probably be best if I give in to an arranged marriage again, if the subject comes up."

"No!" He gripped her arm and whirled her around to face him. His actions startled her and she stumbled momentarily. He reached out, imprisoning her with his arms, effortlessly steadying her body.

"You have given enough, Clarisse. Duty is important, but so are you. Are you willing to give up your soul for the sake of duty?"

"I – I don't know. I don't want to…"

"You don't have to."

"I wish…"

"Stop wishing." He kissed her fiercely.


	5. Chapter 5

As his mouth moved over hers, he could feel her conflicted emotions in the kiss, but he refused to let her push him away. He pressed his body along the length of hers. The longing to touch her, to feel her against his hot skin, was almost unbearable. He knew the precise moment that she gave up the fight. With a flick of her tongue against his she opened her soul to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, accepting the fact that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He kissed her cheeks, her jaw line. When his lips found her neck she moaned aloud and arched her back against the railing of the pier, unconsciously giving him more access to the velvety skin of her throat. Her hands ran up and down his back, clutching at his shirt, nails raking the flesh underneath.

His hands hovered over her breasts, teasing and tormenting until finally moving to the buttons of her dress. He had them halfway undone before his mind registered that she was speaking. He felt her hands on his, impeding his delicate progress.

"Please – Joseph. Please, don't." She was breathing heavily and her pleas sounded almost like sobs, but he could see she that she wasn't crying. "We have to stop. I can't do this."

His breath caught in his throat. His body screamed with thwarted desire. He fought to hold himself in check. Slowly he dropped his hands and stepped away. This time he turned his back to her and stared out over the black water. Clouds obscured the moon and he couldn't see her face. He spoke to the waves, "I'm sorry. I misread the situation, I guess. I don't want to pressure you into something you don't want to do."

When she didn't answer, he thought he could feel his heart crack just a bit. The moon emerged from behind the clouds and he could see her face once more.

Her eyes were downcast. Slowly her hands moved to her throat. "I… I'm scared, I suppose." She lifted her eyes. There was no mistaking the desire burning in them. "You haven't misread anything - I want you, I want this. But I'm scared to have it just this once and then have to live without it. I can't give up my duty. Not until Mia takes the throne. I can live with loneliness, Joseph. I can't live with both loneliness and longing."

He leaned in towards her until he was sure she could feel the same magnetic pull he did – the pull of their bodies towards each other. He looked her full in the eye, his face inches from hers.

"I can't live with that either, Clarisse. I know what is expected of you, and of me. I also know there are ways we could make this work. We have to keep our relationship secret. But if you want this as much as I do, I promise to find ways for us to be together."

"How would you do that, Joseph? Stolen moments? A shadowy pairing? It sounds like something out of a trashy romance novel." She lowered her gaze and whispered, "Is this nothing more than a cheap affair for you, Joseph?"

"You know me better than that." He leaned almost imperceptibly closer. Her breath quickened. He waited until she looked up at him again before he continued. "You are the great love of my life, Clarisse. And if you will allow me, I will love you like no other. I understand that we can't have the relationship that I would like right now. But I'm willing to wait, and one day we will find a way to be together in the sunlight, as well as the shadows."

She bit her lip and took his face in her hands. She studied his eyes, looking for any lingering doubt. "I trust you," she said and he answered her with a long sweet kiss.

When they finally broke apart, she rested her head on his chest and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed deeply, forever imprinting its sweet scent on his mind.

They stood together for a long time, bodies swaying to the rhythm of the surf, soaking in each other's presence. She finally pulled back just enough to look up at him. "We should head back, I suppose," she said. "Charlotte will probably have the army out searching for us by the time we get home. Unless, of course, you were thinking ahead and rented out an entire country inn somewhere for the night?"

She hugged him tighter, enjoying the feel of the laughter in his chest.

She fell asleep against his shoulder on the drive back to the palace. He woke her gently and escorted her safely to the door of her suite. Acutely aware of the two footmen on duty a few feet away, he said his goodbye with a chaste kiss to the back of her hand and a fiery gaze that lingered just long enough to let her know what he was thinking. She smiled in return.

The next day was Joseph's scheduled day off. Clarisse spent the day straining to hear his footstep in the hallway and hoping each phone call would be from him. Finally she got up the nerve to ask Charlotte if she had seen him. She hadn't.

Clarisse left her office long after five o'clock and went downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. She ate quietly, on her own. Finally she made her way upstairs and entered her suite. She leaned against the closed door, taking a moment to rub her eyes, trying to stave off a headache.

"It certainly took you long enough."

She stifled a scream. "Joseph! You scared me half to death!"

He chuckled as he swept her into his arms and apologized with a quick kiss.

"I missed you today," she said.

"I had a mission."

"Oh, really? What did that entail?" she asked.

"A trip back to the beach and a negotiation with an artist." He indicated a large brown paper parcel leaning against the back of a couch.

She laughed with delight. "You bought the painting, didn't you?"

He nodded and indicated that she should unwrap it. She did and stepped back to admire the work.

"Oh, Joseph! It's perfect. I can't believe it!" She turned to look at him and her eyes were shining. "Did you ask him to do that?"

"No. He told me he was through with it until he saw us standing at the edge of the water. Then he decided to add just a bit more. I think it works well, don't you?"

The artist had painted two figures into the scene – a man in black and a woman in blue. They stood next to each other, their arms entwined and their faces hidden by the brim of her hat. They seemed to be at the verge of the horizon – both observing and participating in the sunset.

"I think it's magic. I love it."

Before he left her suite, he offered to hang the painting. She refused, telling him she wouldn't hang it there. This was their painting, she explained, not just hers. It would hang somewhere they could both see it whenever they wanted. He would have to wait and see where it showed up.

She helped his escape by calling her footmen in and having them arrange to have the painting moved out of her rooms. He crept out of the suite so quietly she wasn't even sure he was gone; not until she called his name after the doors were closed again. She couldn't help but sigh when there was no answer.

The next morning Joseph almost stumbled over one of the maids as he turned a corner on his way to the Queen's office for a luncheon meeting. The maid stared at a new piece of artwork hanging on the wall.

He apologized for his clumsiness and she smiled forgiveness at him.

"Isn't this a lovely painting, sir? Her Majesty had it hung this morning." She said.

"It is stunning," he agreed. After a moment's study he asked the maid, "Do you know what it signifies?"

"No, I don't."

"This painting tells the story of an ancient Genovian legend," he said. He glanced towards the Queen's office door. It was open and he could see her watching him from the doorway. He winked at her over the head of the maid.

"The story goes that the evening sky and the morning sky were deeply in love. They wanted nothing more than to be together, but their duties keep them apart. They could only meet for a few minutes each day, early in the morning and late in the evening. They held each other and whispered their love, however briefly. Then they followed their duty and separated until the sky changed again from night to day and day to night. They longed to be together always, but it was impossible. However, the few moments they spent together were so incredible that it made all the time apart bearable for them," he said.

"Oh! How sad! I've never heard that story before, but it's very beautiful," the maid said.

"Isn't it?" he asked a little bit impishly. "I can't imagine why you've never heard it before." He studied the painting closely so the maid wouldn't see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You have to finish the story, Joseph." Both he and the maid started slightly, neither having heard the Queen walk down the hallway towards them.

"Finish it?" he asked, somewhat at a loss.

Clarisse addressed the maid. "The rest of the story is that Mother Earth saw the purity of the feeling between the evening sky and morning sky. She created other spirits to take their places and nurtured the others, carefully training and preparing them until the day they could step in at dawn and release the spirits of the sky from their sacred duty. The spirits thanked Mother Earth and roamed the world together, loving only each other for all eternity."

She caught Joseph's eye and had to cough to keep from laughing. "Or something like that," she finished.

"Oh, Your Majesty! That is such a lovely story, I'll want to cry every time I see this painting," the maid said.

"Really? That's certainly not what _I_ want to do every time I see this painting," the Queen said somewhat cryptically. Joseph was briefly overcome with a fit of coughing. The maid looked at her expectantly, as if awaiting an explanation.

Clarisse merely smiled at the maid, then spoke to Joseph, "Are you ready for our meeting Joseph? Lunch is about to be served."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied and followed her into the office, carefully locking the door behind them.

The End


End file.
